


Flashes of Fire Trails

by barricadebabes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:03:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barricadebabes/pseuds/barricadebabes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre teaches Eponine all about stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flashes of Fire Trails

_i.“Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”_

Combeferre first encounters the girl with wistful smiles when he returns to the Café for a book he’d left. He finds it in the dirty hands of Pontmercy’s shadow.

“I wanted to look through it.” She slides it across the table to him without offering any apologies. “Why do you carry a book with those images in it?”

He clears his throat and fidgets with his spectacles. “I’m a medical student. I have to know all about the human body.”

“Why?” She tilts her head sideways. “Don’t you ever want to study something more interesting?”

Combeferre pulls out a chair at the table. “Well… I find this subject interesting. Does it bore you, Mademoiselle …?”

“Eponine. I wouldn’t say it’s boring but there are so many things that would be so much more fascinating to study, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps you could provide an example?”

Eponine hesitates then stands up and gestures for Combeferre to follow “C’mon.”  She leads him out the door and once they are outside, lifts her face to the sky.

“Those stars, Monsieur. That’s what I would study… if I had the chances you do.” She wraps her arms around herself and gives the stars a sad glance before turning away.

And there’s something about the way that she looks in that tattered coat that is too big for her as she walks away. Something that makes Combeferre wonder if he could make her dreams seem a little less big… if he could give her the stars.

“I could teach you!” He calls out and she turns around, puzzled. “The names of the stars, Mademoiselle. I could teach you those.”

 

_ii. “I like the stars. It's the illusion of permanence, I think.”_

 

“And that one is Phoenix.” She points and smiles smugly.

“Correct, Mademoiselle Eponine. You studied after all.” Combeferre sits down on the grass and sighs. It’s late and he wants to go home, but Eponine is eager to learn. She’s always demanding more lessons and he can’t find it in his heart to tell her they should slow down. The more he thinks about it, the less he wants to. Astronomy lessons with Eponine are quickly becoming his favorite part of the day. The gamine is not bad company. Sometimes she will argue with Combeferre, try her best to find something he doesn’t know. And at other times she will hang on to every word he says, as if they were sacred, particularly when it comes to myths.

She lies down on the grass besides him and lets out a long sigh as well. “Well…. Aren’t you going to tell me the story?”

“Story?” Combeferre pretends not to have a clue what it is she wants.

“Yes.” Eponine sits up. “How the Phoenix got its name. You always know the stories.”

“It’s rather late, Eponine. I think I’ll go home and sleep instead” he tries not to smile at her impatience.

“Not without telling me my story, Monsieur.” She lays a hand on his knee to stop him from getting up.

He wishes that simple gesture didn’t make the heat in his body rise to his face.

“Very well, I’ll tell you the story.” Combeferre answers. “It’s named after the Phoenix.”

“Who’s that?” Eponine interrupts.

“It’s not a _who_ , Eponine. It’s a _what_. In mythology, the Phoenix was a beautiful bird that would live for many years.”

“How many years?”

“I don’t remember exactly. Please stop interrupting. Now, the Phoenix was a beautiful bird that would live for many years. When its time to die finally came, it would build a funeral pyre that would be lit by the sun. The Phoenix would burn to death and then rise from its ashes, looking even more splendid than before.”

Eponine stays silent for a few moments and then stands up. “It’s not a true story, but it’s a beautiful one.”

She doesn’t tell Combeferre that the stories in her head- the ones about the two of them finding a happy ending- are like The Phoenix. They’re beautiful lies.

 

_iii. “If no one else finds the means to patiently adore you, navigate back to me by map of fallen stars.”_

 

The next time Combeferre sees her she’s climbing the barricade looking like a Phoenix as the sun sets behind her.

“Eponine, what are you doing here?” Pontmercy reaches her first and is the one to hold her in his arms as she bleeds to death.

Combeferre wants to take her in his own arms and tell her to wait for the stars to come out. He wants to repeat the myths she liked best, and kiss her before she goes.

_Don’t go._

Instead he listens to her confess that she loved Pontmercy and tries not to let any tears fall when she looks over the other man’s shoulder and looks straight into Combeferre’s eyes as her own glaze over.

He carries her corpse away and prays that the gods will take pity and turn her into one of the stars she loved before kissing her goodbye.

_You’re the Phoenix._

Combeferre hopes to die by starlight so that the last thing he will see is the constellations she loved so much. Instead he dies the next morning and her face is his last thought before there’s nothing but darkness.

 

_iv. “Take your time and don’t worry about getting lost. You’ll find me.”_

 

_She’s waiting._

_Why is she waiting?_

_She has to be waiting for something._

_What is it?_

_What is she?_

_The light that was once a girl with wistful smiles waits._

_And then she sees it… another light speeding towards her._

_**Eponine.** It calls her name._

_And she knows what she’s been waiting for._

**_Now we can be together._ ** _She shouts._

_And she wonders if somewhere, someone is gazing up at them and telling their beautiful story._

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from a Derrick Brown poem. The last two quotes are also his own. The first is by ee cummings and the second is by Neil Gaiman.


End file.
